The local shops. This really is semidesert here. It would not surprise me to see a stagecoach go by with whooping Indians in pursuit. This is like the landscape of the American movies that I was brought up on every Saturday night at Ohaeawai Hall, in deepest postwar Northland. This scenery and architecture feels so familiar.

Hung out my washing this morning, sat down, flicked through the Sunday Star Times, did some much needed tidying up, and helped by the dry 32 degree wind, was able to bring my washing in, not only dry but sort of stiff and crunchy.

Settling in here is progressing, although of course there are always problems associated with travel. It takes time and patience to settle in to a new home.